Soaring above my garden office (and most of Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire) are The Red Kites. These enormous, majestic birds-of-prey screech, dive, glide, fight and play, but they always look beautiful – particularly in evening sunlight, when their red feathers glow like fire. They’re a constant, reassuring presence. Once considered a pest, they were nearly hunted to extinction in England, but Spanish birds were re-introduced to The Chilterns in 1989 and since then, they’ve thrived. I love them. They’re a constant reminder of the wild world. A mere glimpse of one can provide a fleeting but awe-inspiring sense of ‘other’ on even the most hum-drum day. So, here’s my lovely new RED KITE wood engraving print, by artist Ben Jones. I bought it from the wonderful – and seriously under-advertised – UWE ‘Mini Prints’ shop. This is a secret worth sharing…a great place to source affordable, original art for your home.

Since 1986, the Centre for Fine Print Research has been working with staff and MA Print students from the Department of Art & Design, University of the West of England, to produce an annual show of limited edition prints. The format for the prints is the same every year – the paper size is always 20 x 25 cm – but the subject and medium for the prints are dictated by the individual artist. Prints are produced in a limited edition of 60. In return for their participation, each artist recieves a full set of 30 prints, then 5 of the remaining prints from each edition are archived and the rest are available to buy for £25 each or £80 for four. You can search the Mini Prints archives by year, here.

I’m a little bit in love with this vintage brooch I found the other day, which has a real, tiny, maple leaf locked forever inside a resin shell. It looks handmade and I wonder…who made it? And for whom? I love the way that fragile leaves, seedheads and flowers can be frozen in time in resin, a most un-romantic material – but one that captures and preserves timeless beauty. My Hafod Grange resin dandelion clock paperweight is one of my favourite mantelpiece treasures – and evidence that even the seemingly impossible is sometimes possible.

I really enjoyed doing this little makeover project for Gurgle magazine recently. My daughter has spent hours each day playing with it since we gave it to her at Christmas!

If your toddler loves pretending to ‘cook’ (which usually involves pulling everything out of your kitchen cupboards and leaving spoons and saucepans strewn across the floor) then it might be time to invest in a play kitchen, so your tot can have their own little space and you can get on with making dinner without tripping over a small person every two minutes. IKEA’s trusty Duktig kitchen is a great option – it’s affordable (£59), sturdy, easy to build and the hob lights up thanks to batteries concealed beneath. What’s not to love?

Well, it’s a bit boring. The grey plastic handles, the white and beige cabinets – it’s all perfectly practical but not particularly pretty. So, here’s how to ‘hack’ your Duktig so it’s super-stylish. Of course, your toddler will not care what this kitchen looks like. But you have to look at it for the next 4 years or so, so it might as well be gorgeous!

The taps, hanging rail, hooks and hob surround were painted gold, the worktop was covered with marble-effect sticky-back-plastic and a vintage ceramic tap insert was fixed to the tap using superglue.

The grey plastic handles were swapped for stylish brass ones and brass drawer knobs were fitted above the oven to provide turn-able dials.

The kitchen was painted dark grey and the cubby holes were lined with pretty Liberty-print fabric.

A brass coat hook was fitted to the side of the kitchen for a toddler’s apron and tiny shopping basket, then mini accessories were sourced at charity shops, on eBay and from IKEA.

Once the grape harvest is over, the landscape in the Tarn département in south western France becomes an autumnal patchwork of vineyards – veined leaves glowing fiery red and burnt orange, bathed in soft, tired sunlight.

When the autumn mists surround the foot of the Puech de Mortagne peak here, the pretty Medieval town of Cordes-sur-Ciel that perches precariously high on the rocks above appears to be floating on the clouds – hence its name: ‘Cordes in the sky’.

It is here that I saw my first Cardabelle, ‘twixt land and sky – a faded wreath that stopped me in my tracks. It was a huge wheel of a flower, nailed to a grey, barn door. The thistle’s leaves – splayed like sunrays – were dried and summer-bleached, but the centre was still a rich yolk yellow, as golden as the day it was picked. I brushed the seeds gently with my fingertips, conscious that this flower had some purpose or power I could not fathom.

Later, once the foie gras and figs had been finished and the moths were dancing in the lantern light, I learnt that the elusive Cardabelle grows high up and, despite being a protected plant, it is picked and kept as a weather forecasting tool and known as le Barometre du Berger (the Shepherd’s Barometer) – the leaves open up in sunshine and close just before rain. Some say Cardabelles ward off evil. For me, perhaps because I saw one in autumn, the season when thoughts turn to decay, rebirth and renewal, they seem somehow to represent the cyclical nature of life energy itself.

The next day, I became a bit obsessed. I searched for ‘Cardabelle’ on my laptop and let a plethora of beautiful thistles wash over me, admiring the flaked-paint patinas of the rustic doors these mysterious ‘jagged wheels’ were nailed to almost as much as the flowers themselves.

I tried to find more Cardabelles, too. On every stroll or excursion, much to the chagrin of my companions, I darted down side streets and peeped up cobbled alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of another. But I never did. Strangely, a few days later, when I returned to the barn where I had seen my original Cardabelle, it had vanished without trace – perhaps blown away overnight in a storm – and the door looked bare.

But the leaves and seeds, wheeling away on the winds, had returned to the ground.

‘Cardabelle, green rose,
and jagged wheel,
grass sun come from the ground
of the loves of the earth and the sun…’

I am currently on maternity leave so will be taking a break from magazine features for a while. If you want to make a peg rail like I did for our baby’s room, you can find the instructions in this DIY peg rail tutorial I did for Junior magazine.

I made this leaves mobile* using wooden leaves and acorns from Craft Shapes, painted in acrylic paint and hung using black cotton thread from a DIY wooden mobile hanger from Etsy.

The pom-pom garland was made using 36 small balls of coloured wool (you can find these sets of wool on eBay); The ‘Flying Robin‘ card is by talented York-based artist Mark Hearld (whose house is one of the coolest I have visited) – you can find his cards at Down To Earth.

Every now and again, I treat myself to a vintage hanger, seeking out those that are printed with interesting advertising slogans or the names of hotels, laundry services or holiday resorts. They’re cheap to buy at flea markets and look lovely enough to hang in your hallway, out on display.

At this time of year, the front of our cottage is a-buzz with honey bees, while the rooms upstairs are filled with sweet scent. It’s all thanks to a beautiful rambling rose called ‘Bobbie James’, which is in full bloom at the moment. It’s a quick climber, easy to maintain, highly fragrant and looks lovely all year round – with fairy lights in it at Christmas or when it’s laden with flowers as it is now.

Another post about chickens?! A tad egg-cessive perhaps (groan), but finding fresh, still-warm eggs in their nests is now my favourite morning ritual, rivalled only by eating them for breakfast. And they look SO lovely lined up.

You can SEE A PREVIEW of one of the homes featured in the book on The Guardian website, there was a lovely feature about it in The New York Times, and it's been featured in many other titles, including You (The Daily Mail), Stella (Sunday Telegraph), Elle Decoration, Country Homes & Interiors, Homes & Antiques, Grazia, Marie Claire, Mollie Makes, Good Homes, Redbook (USA), Country Living (USA), Red - Hearst Home (Italy) and Psychologies.